


I Can Tell You Had Bad Dreams Last Night

by Elle82



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Age Play, Diapers, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Nightmares, Non-Sexual Age Play, Wetting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-03
Updated: 2015-12-03
Packaged: 2018-05-04 16:58:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,404
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5341622
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elle82/pseuds/Elle82
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Usually it's Will that has the bad dreams...</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Can Tell You Had Bad Dreams Last Night

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! This is set in the little!verse - please read my other stories (and other bookmarked authors) for context. 
> 
> Contains ageplay - consenting adults, some who choose to act younger than their biological ages. 
> 
> Prompts always welcome, hit me up in the comments or come find me on tumblr: puppyxtraining :D

_Smoke, thick and dark, rose from behind the house. As Hannibal pulled up in his car, he could smell the toxicity from the driveway. The clouds that billowed had that sickly grey-green tinge and he stared at it, mesmerized for a few seconds._

_He ran through the house, calling his name._  

_“Will? Will where are you?”_

_He reached the back yard, where a large bonfire had been lit. Will stood there next to it, stoking the pile of burning material with a stick._

_Hannibal approached him, swinging his gaze between the smouldering heap and Will’s emotionless face._

_“What is this? What are you doing?”_

_“I’m burning it.”_

_“Burning what? Will, step back, you’re too close.”_

_Hannibal tried to pull Will back from where he stood, but Will shrugged him off and continued to poke at the bonfire._

_The flames were hot on Hannibal’s face. He didn’t understand how Will could be standing so close. As he continued to prod at the flames, Hannibal made out some of the items in the bonfire._

_He could see toys and rags. Bits of melted plastic, warped beyond recognition. He squinted, partly to keep the smoke from his eyes, and made out a small figure at the edge of the fire._

_It was Mr Bear, singed and blackened._

_“Will?! What is this?”_

_“Leave it, Hannibal. I don’t need it anymore.”_

_“What? Don’t need what?”_

_Will turned to him, made eye contact for the first time._

_“Didn’t I tell you? Little Will. He’s gone.”_

_“What do you mean? What have you done?”_

_Will pointed at the bonfire._

_“I don’t need him anymore. So I’ve destroyed it. I’ve destroyed it all.”_

_Hannibal looked around, looked for the garden hose. Something, anything to put out the fire. Tears brimmed in his eyes, from the smoke and from the sheer sadness of it all._

_“You can’t mean that Will.”_

_“Oh, I can. And I do. Little Will doesn’t need his daddy anymore.”_

_Will threw the stick onto the top of the bonfire and turned to Hannibal with a smile of pure evil on his face._

_“And I? I don’t need you at all.”_

_With a hard shove, so hard Hannibal felt it deep within his heart, Will pushed Hannibal into the fire, the flames licking and stinging at his body, singeing his hair. He flailed, the pain almost too much to bear, and all the while he looked at Will’s face, that sick smile dancing on his lips as he turned to walk away._

_…._

Hannibal woke up with a shout. He brushed invisible flames off his arms and legs, tangled in the bedsheets. 

When he realised it had been a nightmare, he closed his eyes again, seeing Will’s face and the flames that surrounded him. He opened his eyes and found himself crying.

Hannibal rarely had nightmares as an adult. As a child, he had had his fair share, especially after Mischa, but none were as vivid and horrific as this. 

He concentrated on his breathing, looked over at the clock. It was 6:34 in the morning. Hannibal took a gulp of water from the glass on his bedside table and then swung his legs over the side of the bed. They felt shaky, so he gave himself a moment before he padded down the hall to Will’s room. 

He pushed the door open and could hear soft, sleepy noises coming from the bed. Dull winter sunlight streamed through the window. Will was fast asleep, one arm around Mr Bear, the other clutched in the folds of a fuzzy blue baby blanket. He was sucking on his pacifier and looked completely at peace, a million miles away from crime scenes and dead bodies and bonfires. 

Hannibal lowered the guardrails on Will’s bed. They were the removable type, but made the bed more childish for when he was little. Hannibal climbed in so that he was facing Will. His eyelids fluttered open, surprised to see his daddy in bed with him. He mumbled around his pacifier.

“Nggh…daddy?”

“Shh shh. Go back to sleep, darling boy.”

Will whimpered, then shifted close , so that his head was nestled on his daddy’s shoulder. He rubbed his eyes and looked at his face in the dim light, removing his pacifier. 

“Daddy, why you crying?”

Will gave a little frown as Hannibal wiped his cheeks with his hand. 

“I’m alright, little one. Daddy just had a bad dream.”

Will bit his bottom lip. 

“You wanna borrow Mr Bear?”

Hannibal smiled as Will offered the soft toy, which Hannibal gently petted on the head.

“No darling, you hold on to Mr Bear. Daddy’s alright.”

Hannibal ran his hand through Will’s hair as the boy settled again. 

“What’d you dream about daddy?”

“It’s not important, Will. What’s important is you’re here with me.”

Silence, save a bird outside that gave a tentative chirp.

When Will spoke again, he was speaking as an adult. His voice was deeper, and had lost the childish lilt that little Will spoke with. 

“You don’t have nightmares, Hannibal.”

Another tear fell and before he could wipe it away, Will reached up and thumbed it from his cheek. 

“You don’t cry often either. Must have been bad.”

Hannibal nodded, pulled Will closer. 

“I dreamt you went away Will. You burned all of little Will’s things, and then you went away.”

He didn’t tell Will about being pushed into the flames. Not now. Maybe not ever. 

Will stroked Hannibal’s cheek and sighed. 

“I’m not going anywhere Hannibal.”

“I know. But sometimes, as you’re well aware, dreams can be a manifestation of our subconscious; of possibilities we dare not think of in waking.”

“You have nothing to be scared of.”

Hannibal buried his nose in Will’s curls, breathing in the scent of baby shampoo he had used to wash his hair the night before. He smelled soft and warm and so soothing. 

“I don’t know what I’d do if I lost you. I know I said I’d be okay if little Will, perhaps one day, didn’t return. I still hold that to be true. But you, Will? You’re…you’re irreplaceable.”

Will wanted to kiss Hannibal, kiss him to make him feel better and reassure him that he wouldn’t be going anywhere. But he was lying in bed, still clutching little Will’s things, dressed in his footed pyjamas with a disposable diaper underneath. It felt wrong. 

“You don’t think I feel the same way, Hannibal?”

“I sometimes feel my affection and love for you is too strong.”

Will shook his head, tracing his fingers over Hannibal’s jaw. 

“No. Intense, yes. Generous. Loving. Kind. Never too strong. You know I love you, both as Hannibal, and as little Will’s daddy.”

Hannibal kissed him on the forehead. They lay in the warm silence of the bedroom. Will began to think about how he could make Hannibal feel better, soothe him, reassure him. So he shifted his weight, pressing his crotch against Hannibal’s leg. He sighed, and relaxed his bladder, wetting the diaper. 

Hannibal felt the warmth almost immediately and glanced down at Will who had the glimmer of a cheeky smile playing on his lips. 

“Had a accident, daddy. Sorry, daddy.” Will lisped adorably. 

Hannibal smiled and rubbed Will’s back.

“No need to be sorry, little one. Let’s say we get you changed then we can start the day.”

Will nodded.

“Daddy, can we bake something today?”

“I think that can be arranged. What would you like to bake?”

Will knew exactly what he was doing. Hannibal loved to cook and loved to instruct little Will on how to do things around the kitchen. 

“I wanna bake whatever daddy wants to bake.”

“Perhaps we can make some gingerbread men? Perfect our recipe in time for Christmas.”

“Oooh, we need to practice the gingerbread for Santa! We need to leave him something delicious to eat when he comes and brings me presents!”

Hannibal laughed. Little Will could be so innocent, but very very clever. He kissed him once again on the forehead, content with staying in bed, but with fatherly responsibility taking over. 

“Indeed. And I’m sure Santa will bring you plenty of presents, so long as you remain a well-behaved little boy. Now, come, let’s get you changed.”

Hannibal climbed out of bed and took Will’s hand, the premise of the day with his boy causing him to relinquish the dream to the back of his mind. 

For now. 


End file.
